Tangled Beliefs
by SophiaL17
Summary: Both Dumbledore and Voldemort want Snape for themselves. But their reasons differ greatly and cause Snape to slowly lose himself. Slash.
1. Chapter 1

_Both Dumbledore and Voldemort want Snape for themselves. But their reasons differ greatly and cause Snape to slowly lose himself._

_A little warning before I begin; this particular story will contain some slash (male/male). This chapter has no slash, but it _will _appear in future chapters. If this makes you uncomfortable, then I suggest you turn back and read another story._

* * *

The Great Hall was crowded with students while they were eating dinner. Their carefree chatter and laughter were signs that most of them were in a happy mood.

The teachers too were in a good humour: they were talking about their day or discussing an interesting topic. A laugh or a raised voice would be detected occasionally when someone heard a joke or a funny thing.

Albus Dumbledore glanced to his right. There, a few seats away, was an empty seat. He watched the chair for a few moments but turned his eyes to the back door when it opened. A man appeared and he closed the door just as quickly as he had opened it. He walked to the only vacant chair and seated himself.

Foods and drinks appeared immediately, but he didn't touch his plate. Instead, his hand went to his goblet containing pumpkin juice. He raised his glass and sipped. He grimaced a little at the foul taste of the liquid. He then picked up his fork and knife and was about to eat when he heard a voice speaking to him.

"Ah, there you are Severus! So, how was your day?"

Snape didn't reply. He brought a mouthful of potatoes to his mouth, chewed many times and swallowed it with some effort. He hoped that McGonagall would get the hint that he wasn't in the mood for small talks, but she persisted.

"A rough day, then, Severus?"

Snape sighed and put his cutlery down. He glanced at McGonagall and replied in a slightly hostile voice. "What do you want, Minverva?"

The Transfigurations Professor raised her eyebrows. "A little cold today, aren't we? Very well then. A student, quite distressed, came to me today after Transfigurations. He was very upset and told me that you've punished him unfairly." She looked meaningfully at him.

"Your point?" Snape asked while he ignored the hidden meaning of her gaze.

"My point? A week detention is a little too much, don't you think? The poor boy didn't make a big mistake. He told me that and, frankly, I agree with him. I think you should rethink your decision. A few days at most is more than enough!" She stared at him sternly with a pair of piercing eyes.

Snape stared at her for a few seconds and then looked over her shoulder. He frowned a little after a moment and turned his head away from her direction.

"Fine then, have it your way. If you'll excuse me now, I have a detention to supervise." He spoke in a slightly defeated voice.

He stood up, walked to the back door and slipped through the gap and disappeared from sight.

The confused witch frowned and looked back at her own food. A voice then appeared.

"Don't worry, Minerva. He's just having a turbulent day." She turned her head to look at Dumbledore, but he wasn't focusing on her: his eyes were concentrating on the back door and his face was drawn in mild concern.

* * *

After the student had finished his tedious and unjust punishment, Snape sent him away wordlessly. The Potions Master glanced at his clock: 9.30 PM. He walked to his desk and resumed his previous task; grading students' essays. It was quite a dull chore, but it occupies his mind.

_Anything is better than... that… _

He picked up his quill and began to mark the papers.

He looked up, as he put the last essay on his finished-pile, to find the clock: 10.20 PM. Snape stacked them in a neat pile and used his wand to put them away before he stood up and walked to the door.

Dumbledore had invited him for tea at 10.30 PM. The Potions Master hated tea, but he couldn't decline the Headmaster's call. He had never refused an offer before, and he would not be doing that this time either.

Snape didn't run into any students on his way to the Gargoyle. It was a good thing, actually. He was in a pretty sullen mood: he didn't know for sure whether he can stop himself from taking points as soon as he saw one coming in his sight.

* * *

He uttered the password to the stature. It moved aside and he walked up the stairs. He wanted to knock when he came to the door, but a voice called before he could react.

"Come in, Severus."

Snape raised his eyebrows a little and opened the door. Dumbledore stood with his back towards his desk, already smiling. Their eyes met for a moment, but Snape looked away and greeted him with a short "Headmaster."

"Shall we go to the next room?"

Snape hesitated. He opened his mouth, but closed it after a few seconds with a small grimace. His gaze was focused on the ground.

Dumbledore's smile vanished and his eyes narrowed in concern while he studied his visitor. He looked tired; his shoulders were a little slumped, his pace was slow, and his responses were silent and became more formal.

"Unless there is something you wanted to discuss with me?"

"No." He answered immediately. He walked towards the living room. Dumbledore followed a few seconds later.

The living room was small and round, but cosy at the same time. Every item in this room radiated a calm and soft sensation. Snape walked to the couch and chose a place in the far right corner. Dumbledore followed him and sat beside him.

The couch was the first thing that Snape saw when he came here for the very first time. Its colour stood out. It was dark green with a tinge of black. He was surprised: he had always thought that the Headmaster would choose red instead of green and he couldn't stop himself from commenting.

"A _green_ couch?" He whispered to himself. He snapped his mouth shut as soon as he had spoken it out loud. He cursed himself for voicing that thought. But he heard a small laugh behind him and he smiled imperceptible at his reaction.

He couldn't stop himself from smirking a little at that silly memory.

"What is it, Severus?"

"Nothing, Headmaster."

Dumbledore didn't comment, but raised his wand to summon some tea. They appeared at the small round table before the couch. He stooped forward and prepared their tea with precision and a sharp eye.

He had always invited Snape for tea. This habit had started since his first year here in Hogwarts as a teacher. At least once every week, he would invite Snape. In the safety of the Headmaster's office, they discussed many topics and common interests. Snape could remember that he acted a little suspicious and cold towards the Headmaster. But his heart was melting, each time when he visited him. He didn't know any more when he became comfortable around him. At some time, Dumbledore stopped to send his invitations because it had become a routine.

Snape accepted the freshly made tea from Dumbledore. Their fingertips touched for a short moment. Snape flinched away as soon as he felt the warm fingers on his cold ones. He quickly looked away and put his hand on his lap. Dumbledore frowned a little and tried to look at his face. The other didn't meet his eyes. He decided not to push him. Yet.

The Headmaster lifted his own cup and took a sip. He put the porcelain on the table and waited for Snape to begin.

Snape coughed silently. "I apologise for my behaviour at dinner, Headmaster."

"No need to apologise, my boy. I'm sure that you have a good reason for acting the way you did." Snape didn't reply.

"But… enough of that. How are you, my boy?" Snape looked at his untouched tea, while he frowned a little.

"I feel fine. Is there a reason not to?"

"Of course not, dear boy, but you look a little tired."

"Who wouldn't when-" Snape stopped talking and took a deep breath while he set his cup at the table. He grimaced a little when his back touched the couch again. His eyes were transfixed at the lone cup.

Dumbledore became more concerned by his peculiar behaviour.

"Severus, is there something troubling you?"

"Should there?" He snapped back immediately.

Snape closed his eyes as soon as the words had left his mouth and he rubbed his temple with his right hand. Dumbledore's frown deepened while he studied him intently.

"I apologize. It has been a rough… day for me." He sighed while he released his head.

"I understand. Care to enlighten me?" The Headmaster asked.

Snape didn't answer. He looked at his hands on his lap, before turning his head to Dumbledore.

"I have... a lot of essays to grade and... potions to prepare..." The younger wizard shook is head.

"I see... make sure not to overburden yourself, you _are _impossible to replace." Dumbledore leaned a little closer to him. "In more than one way." An enticing glint appeared in his blue eyes and Snape quickly looked a little to the right.

"Of course..." His voice shook and he tried not to show his uncomfortable behaviour while he thought of a possible way to stop it.

"It's getting quite late. I think I'll retire for today…" He took another sip and put his tea on the wooden table. He moved his arms on either of his sides and applied a little pressure at the couch, ready to leave the furniture. He stopped when his eyes fell on the blue orbs.

"Unless… unless you wanted to discuss something?" They continued to gaze at each other, the one seated calmy on the couch, the other hovering a little above the furniture with a slightly tensed body. They both searched each other's eyes for a minute before Dumbledore replied.

"No, nothing of importance."

Snape nodded and raised his body off of the couch and walked to the door leading to the office. Dumbledore followed a moment later.

They remained silent while they walked to the exit. Snape put his hand on the handle of the door, but a voice stopped him.

"Goodnight, Severus. I see you tomorrow at breakfast."

Snape didn't turn around, but replied. "Goodnight, Headmaster."

His hand and voice were shaking a little while he replied. He opened the door and closed it silently behind him.

_

* * *

_

This will be my very first story, and I am very excited already. As always, reviews and comments are very welcome!

_Edit: I've changed this chapter a little: I've omitted a small part and replaced it with something else. _


	2. Chapter 2

_**Warning: this chapter contains some implied slash.**_

_

* * *

_

_A soft, warm body touched his backside. He started, but quickly relaxed and leaned back. A hand embraced his middle. He shifted his body to sit more comfortably, but a tickling sensation on his stomach stopped his movements. Groaning annoyingly, he tried to still the fingers with his right hand, but they were very nimble and fast and he heard a familiar chuckle near his left ear before the irritated man frowned._

"_Stop doing that..." The arm left his body and he turned his own around to face the other with a small smile._

He felt a very strange, but well-known feeling engulfing him, but it quickly evaporated when he slept further.

_

* * *

_

He turned around to leave, but a voice stopped him. "Stay for a moment, Severus."

_Snape turned around. "Yes, My Lord."_

_Voldemort waited until the room was vacant, except for the two of them. He walked to the other and stopped a few feet away from him. His red eyes looked at the masked face._

"_You have been awfully quiet in my meeting." _

"_I had nothing of importance to tell you, My Lord." The younger wizard was grateful that his face was hidden from view. His right arm was shaking a little and he was sweating. _

Something is going to happen…

"_Indeed…" The red orbs were focusing intensely on his eyes. Snape widened his eyes a little and unconsciously raised his mental defences. _

_A bad mistake. _

_Voldemort narrowed his eyes._

"_Crucio."_

_Snape fell to the ground while his body shook and was struggling not to cry out. His breathing was coming out irregularly and he heard a pair of footsteps nearing him. _

"_Remove your mask." The shuddering man took a deep and shaky breath and attempted to raise his right arm. It was difficult trying to do so many things at the same time when someone was in a deep pain. He managed to move his hand, but he couldn't grab his mask. Snape let out an unstable breath. _

_Voldemort let out a chuckle while he watched his struggle. He crouched down in front of the lying man and put his right hand on the side of his mask. With a small pull, he removed it and laid it aside. Onyx eyes were trying to observe him as he put a hand on his cheek._

"_My dear Severus."_

* * *

He opened his eyes with a start. His body was shaking, his bed sheets were drenched with his sweat and his hair was plastered against his head. His eyes looked around in alarm while he was breathing rapidly. It was still dark inside, so he couldn't see very well and it only heightened his panicked state. The lying wizard tried to take a steady breath, but somehow, his lungs weren't cooperating.

__

The bony hand continued to caress his cheek. Snape wanted to move away, but he couldn't manoeuvre his body, not voluntarily, while he was under this nasty spell.

The younger man stood up quickly and tried to move, but he left his bed too quickly and tripped because his feet refused to move. His body fell down with a loud thud at his bedside.

_"So… silent, so in control…"_

He sat up, quivered badly and brought his knees to his chest to halt that memory.

_The spell was lifted. He remained where he was, his body on the ground. It was still shaking from the after-effects. He felt a cold hand at his neck, stroking it, while the other fingers went from his cheek to his hair. _

Snape grabbed his head with his left hand and tried to stop his mind from remembering his meetings. But he couldn't stop it. They were getting worse with each passing day. He tried, of course, to Occlude his mind. But lately, it had lost its effect. All his feelings and past memories were attacking him ruthlessly.

Could he not do a thing to evade them?

Could he not do a thing to _stop_ them?

* * *

He awoke suddenly and gazed around him with a slightly raised heartbeat. He noticed the window and saw that it was dark outside. He sighed; he had never been a deep sleeper, but he could get a few hours of sleep every night.

But not this week. He couldn't seem to fall asleep: a foreign sensation would wake him up every time before he entered the dream state.

The sitting man looked around, this time more focused, and saw that he was sitting in his office. His back was hurting a little. He turned his head to the grandfather clock and saw that it was 4.40 AM.

He probably couldn't sleep any more for today, so he decided to stand up. A few bones in his back were cracking from the sudden movements and he groaned when he felt that they moved back to their original positions.

His mind drifted back to yesterday evening while he walked to the sleeping Fawkes. Snape had never been a talker, but he was very silent yesterday. There was something in his movements and demeanour that had changed. And then there was this sudden formality and stiffness: he could understand that he chose to be professional and distant when they could be seen together. But he was acting with the same coldness and reserve when they were alone and away from the outside world.

His behaviour wasn't the only point that concerned him: it seemed that his mental stability had started to show some leaks. Snape was someone who took great pride in being in control and hated sloppy and chaotic people. It was strange that he showed some signs of disorganization and disarray.

A confused mind would be disastrous if someone like him, a master of Occlumency, would lose his control. The many buried and hidden things and feelings in his mind would all come to the surface and they would overwhelm and puzzle him.

He had already seen a few thoughts of his friend, like today at dinner, and sensed that his defences were quite low, especially this week. He suspected that he had not noticed that his mind was in a weakened state. That was what worried him even more: he could be in great danger when he would be called to his Master's side. He feared for his safety and life when Voldemort could see through his lies and his false and fabricated loyalty.

The most important question was what had caused this sudden loss of control. He had known Snape for a long time now, and he almost knew everything about him, from insignificant details to his most intimate thoughts and beliefs, but he was never in such a state before.

He signed heavily while he looked at the red bird.

_What to do now?_


	3. Chapter 3

_His chair is empty… again._

Dumbledore sighed while he glanced at the empty furniture. Snape didn't appear for breakfast and lunch, and it looked like he would pass this dinner too. That was indeed strange. He would occasionally skip lunch or breakfast, but he would always show up for supper. The older wizard had made that very clear to him.

_Something must have happened._

The Headmaster looked at his own untouched plate. He wasn't hungry, not when he was in such a worry over his friend. More than a friend, actually. He didn't know when their relationship had changed, but it had evolved, slowly. He had always felt more for the raven haired wizard than any other person. From the first moment he saw him, when the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, he felt something strange. A peculiar feeling that had grown when time passed.

It was a long, tedious journey, but they had endured and survived it, and now they were very close friends. Even more than that. The younger man would still be defensive, watchful or silent sometimes, but he was trying very hard to unlearn his habits when he was with the aged wizard and he had already succeeded partially.

And now he was rapidly distancing himself. Again.

Dumbledore sighed.

The young wizard had already left him once, and he had seen how the other had almost changed irreversibly, but he would not abandon him again. No, he would absolutely _not _do that. Ever.

The Headmaster looked at that seat again and decided to visit him. He stood up a moment later and left the Great Hall.

* * *

The Potions Master was bent over a cauldron. He added a little belladonna in the blue substance and waited a few seconds. The potion turned its colour to orange.

He frowned and muttered silently again. He raised his wand and vanished the failed potion with a violent swish. His left shoulder stung a little from that force. The irritated man closed his eyes for a second and let out a deep breath.

_Concentrate Severus!_

Snape quickly opened his eyes when he heard a bubbling sound. He walked to a small cauldron to his right and peered inside. The liquid was boiling and some of it splashed against the inside of the metal pot. Its colour changed to purple and the bubbling stopped immediately.

The Potions Master cursed under his breath, put a hand on his forehead and counted to ten before he removed his fingers from his face. He gazed at the round, metal cauldron and removed the purple fluid with a small flick of his wand.

He carefully grabbed the small cauldron with his right hand and moved to the other cauldron, but he sensed that his wards were being probed. The walking man froze instantly and almost dropped the object in his hand.

There was only one person who had the courage to enter his personal territory, and he was the _last_ person he wanted to see right now.

_Of course, he always chooses the right time…_

He put the cauldron on a table and walked to his quarters to find a robe. He found one sitting on a chair and he quickly draped it over his dark blue pyjamas. While the wizard was walking to his living room, he heard a knock on the door. Snape strolled to the door while he took a few deep breaths and opened the door.

"Good evening, Severus."

"Headmaster."

"Do you mind if I come in?" His voice sounded cheerful. A gay Dumbledore meant trouble for Snape.

"Well, actually…"

"Excellent then!" The Headmaster didn't wait for his reply, but entered the room. Snape closed his eyes for a second before he shut the door.

Dumbledore looked around and saw that the room was quite a mess: the desk was littered with papers, some of it were on the ground, some had travelled and were scattered across the room, a book lay half-opened on the couch and the table was cluttered with more books, most of them opened at a random page.

Snape noticed that Dumbledore was surveying the state of his room, so he quickly walked to the couch, picked up the book and marched to his desk to put it under some papers.

He turned around and saw that the Headmaster was looking at him. His face was neutral, but he saw in his eyes that he was concerned and a little puzzled.

"Forgive me for the slight… disarray in this room." Snape looked around with an uncomfortable feeling.

"No, no. It's all right, Severus." Dumbledore smiled a little and walked to the dark blue couch.

"How are you, Severus?"

"I'm fine, Headmas-"

"Albus."

Snape raised his eyebrows and stared at Dumbledore. "Come again?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled while he replied. "I think you can call me Albus when we are alone, my boy."

Snape looked at him.

"Of course… Albus." He whispered the last word and looked awkwardly around him so he could avert his merry gaze.

It remained silent for a moment.

"I didn't see you today, Severus." Snape didn't reply, but began to organise the papers on his desk. He sensed that Dumbledore was coming closer, but he couldn't walk away. The sauntering man would definitely suspect something if he did that.

He put some papers in the drawers and organised the rest in a pile. A paper caught his attention, but the words were blurring.

He stared a minute and tried to focus his eyes.

It didn't work.

His face became pale and his fingers were starting to shake.

"Severus?"

Snape didn't reply, he didn't even hear that voice. Dumbledore frowned and became slightly alarmed. He walked around the desk and touched his left shoulder while he repeated his name.

He flinched immediately and dropped the paper in his hand. The shocked man tried to shake off the hand, but it only tightened its hold.

"Severus, what's wrong?" The concerned voice asked something, but Snape didn't hear him. He put a hand on his face and his breathing quickened.

_No! Don't…_

"Severus!"

"_Severus…" He felt a cold hand on his shoulder while the other one was on his back. A mouth was close to his ear, whispering something to him._


	4. Chapter 4

A warm hand touched his forehead. He wanted to move his face away, but it didn't move. He tried to shift his body, but it didn't obey him. The panic coursed through his body as he struggled to open his eyes.

Nothingness.

He became even more alarmed. Suddenly, the hand left his eyes.

Snape saw a ceiling. A familiar ceiling. The ceiling of his living room.

_Living room?_

He noticed that his back was resting on something soft.

_My couch?_

Snape closed his eyes again and tried to think, but every thought seemed to evade him.

He felt a hand – the same hand? – enclosing his right wrist. It stayed there for a few seconds before it released his arm. He moaned a little when the hand touched an area near the healing wound on his left shoulder. It left immediately, like it had been electrocuted, and a voice whispered.

"Severus?"

That voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't picture a corresponding face. Snape opened his eyes once more and saw a blurred image of a man. He squinted his eyes, but his vision remained unfocused.

His body was lifted gently and the coldness of a cup grazed his mouth. Too tiredly to disobey, he opened his mouth. The taste of the potion should be acquainted to him, but his mind couldn't come up with a name. The confused wizard closed his eyes.

The potion was effective, though. He could move his fingers and toes again and his vision returned. Snape opened his eyes, turned his gaze to the right and saw the concerned face of the Headmaster, who sat near him on a chair. Their eyes met and he saw that Dumbledore was looking intensely in his eyes.

Feeling uncomfortable again, he averted his gaze to the other's shoulder.

"What has… happened?"

Dumbledore didn't answer, but continued to look at his face. Snape looked at his left hand and tested it for a moment. It moved. He put his hand on his side again, took a breath and tried to raise himself from the couch.

A deep pain could be felt and he dropped his body with a deep grunt.

"You shouldn't move yet. Your left shoulder is still healing." A hand went to his chest to emphasize it.

Snape widened his eyes and a slightly panicked look crossed his face. He looked at the other.

"How did-"

"My boy, it was hard to miss, despite your cloaking." The Headmaster removed his hand and looked intently in the onyx eyes, searching for an explanation.

"I am a little worried about you, Severus."

"It's just a minor wound." He shifted a little and carefully moved his left shoulder again.

"It is not the wound that I am troubled about."

"What do you-"

"You lost your consciousness." Snape furrowed his eyebrows.

"So?" The confused man didn't understand why Dumbledore was anxious about that subject. He had passed out a few times in the presence of the Headmaster. The aged wizard was never afflicted and Snape suspected that he wanted him to faint in his presence, and not in the privacy of his own, isolated chambers, so the other could take care of him and be there for him when he would regain consciousness.

The Headmaster sighed. "You have not been taking good care of yourself lately, have you?" It came out as a question, but they both knew the answer already. Snape remained silent, so the other decided to press a little more.

"Is there something on your mind?" The Potions Master averted his head and looked at the ground.

"Severus-"

"Why are you still here?" The slight hostile voice didn't escape Dumbledore's notice.

"Severus, you-" He stopped speaking when he saw the other clutching his left arm in a grimace and taking a loud breath. The lying man released his arm and slowly set his feet, his left foot first, on the ground. He tested his legs and reluctantly stood up while a scowl could be seen. The younger man immediately felt a hand to support him, and he looked very annoyed at the Headmaster.

Dumbledore saw the irritated gaze and quickly withdrew his arm. He knew that he couldn't stop him from leaving so he tried to stall his departure.

"My boy, perhaps-"

"Don't..." The soft whisper surprised the Headmaster. Snape used that opportunity to limp to the door while he clutched his shoulder. He almost reached the door.

"Severus..." Snape ignored the sad and pained voice and touched the doorknob with a shaking hand. He turned his head to Dumbledore and gazed at him. The wounded wizard opened his mouth, but the words couldn't leave his throat, so he lowered his gaze, frowned a little and opened the door.

The Headmaster stared with very worried and anxious eyes at the retreating form and closed his eyes. His mind played the scene again and he tried to find a clue that would explain his very strange and disquieting behaviour. He repeated the memory thrice, but couldn't find any lead. The aged man opened his eyes and sighed heavily.

Dumbledore wanted to stay here and wait for his return, but he knew that he would upset the other greatly if he did that. When he would come back from his meeting, the Headmaster would probably damage the boy even more than his current state. No, he should return to his office and wait with worrisome impatience until he would hear a knock or received a message.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Warning: this chapter contains implied slash.**_

* * *

Voldemort raised himself from his chair, signalling that the meeting was over. Most occupants followed his example and walked to the door, except for one Death Eater who was staring at nothingness.

He raised his eyes when he heard the scraping sounds of chairs against the floor and gazed confused around him. Snape frowned behind his mask and blinked a few times. The seated man brought a hand to the side of his head and closed his eyes. He felt a small ripple of pain and knew that the effects of the unknown potion was wearing off. The wizard released a shuddering breath and slowly stood up. He located the door with half-closed eyes and took a step toward it.

"Severus."

Snape froze. He had thought that he was the only resident in this room. The Dark Lord seemed extremely impatient for the meeting to end. He thought that the curt man would be gone the second this gathering was over.

The other Death Eaters were not waiting for him. Most colleagues disliked, suspected or ignored him. They saw Snape as a traitor and coward, or someone who couldn't choose between their Lord and Albus Dumbledore. Lucius was the only exception, but he was on a mission and couldn't attend this meeting.

Snape felt a hand on his back and flinched heavily away.

An unwise move.

An intense pain went through his body and he saw a rainbow of colours. Snape pinched his eyes shut and tried to block the pain and nausea away. A second arm grasped his shoulder and he was lowered on a soft chair. The sitting man let out a loud groan when the hand touched his wound. The fingers quickly left him.

There was a silence and he used that chance to calm himself.

"Severus?" The voice sounded curious, but it also had an unknown, dangerous edge which unnerves him. He heard a ruffle and soft silk touching him and his mask was gently removed. He opened his eyes a little and saw that Voldemort was staring at him with narrowed eyes.

"What is the meaning of this?" He showed him his right hand and Snape looked at the blood on the pale fingers. He swallowed and gazed away.

Voldemort took a step forward, grasped his chin with his left hand and turned it to his own face.

"Who has done this?" Snape lowered his eyes.

"_Who, _Severus?_" _The menacing quality was very clear now. Snape tried to move his head away, but the fingers applied more pressure. The seated man remained silent.

Voldemort brought his face closer to his. "Is it someone I know?" Snape frowned a little, but didn't respond. A soft form against his legs. "A follower of mine?"

Silence.

"An Auror, perhaps?" He remained unmoved.

"Or is it... ah..." Snape aimed to look as neutral as possible, but he couldn't prevent himself from cringing a little. Voldemort smirked and brought his hand away from his face. He took a step back to examine the sitting man.

"Is _he_... the cause?" He widened his eyes and turned them to the red globes. A knowing and triumphant look could be seen in those orbs. Snape swallowed and his distressingly feelings intensified themselves. His eyes looked at the door and they sought a possible way to leave, but his brains received a small prickling sensation. He turned his head and saw that Voldemort had pointed his wand in the direction of his left shoulder. After a moment, he removed his wand and stared at Snape. An almost greedy look could be distinguished in his eyes and that only meant trouble for the other.

Voldemort came closer again and touched his cheek almost tenderly, but Snape knew that his behaviour was possibly a façade and flinched at the contact.

"Are you _still_ uncomfortable around me?" Snape tried to stand up, but the other's body wasn't giving him enough space. A second hand touched his right shoulder.

"We have to remedy that, don't you think?" He wriggled, but the hand tightened his hold. A hand brushed his jaw and touched the side of his neck. Voldemort sighed while he focused his eyes on the onyx orbs.

"Why, Severus?" Snape understood immediately what his Lord meant, but he couldn't answer that question; he didn't understand it either. The puzzling man knew that it would be foolish to say that, but he had no other choice.

"I... I don't know." He realised that his reply was the wrong answer after he had whispered it. Fingers squeezed his shoulder and their legs touched again. The other touched his Adam's apple.

"Is that so?" The hand enclosed their fingers loosely around his neck and Voldemort brought his very pale face close to the other one. Snape knew that he must reply, or the consequences would be even worse.

"Yes..." He whispered that word almost inaudible. The silent wizard saw _that_ look clearly in his eyes and tried to mentally prepare himself.

But it was too late.

Voldemort vanished the chair with a flick of his hand. Snape fell down on the ground with a grimace and closed his eyes. Despite the horrible pain, he attempted to turn his body away from the other, but a hand rested on his left shoulder, a centimetre away from his wound. Another hand pressed his chest to still him and a knee trapped his right leg. He opened his eyes and saw that the Dark Lord was hovering above him and staring at him with a very enraged gleam.

"Wrong answer..." He became alarmed and struggled to answer, but he was cut off. "You are a liar..."

His hand travelled up from his chest. "You enjoy it, do you not, when he... _touches _you..."

Snape noticed the revolted and loathsome quality while he looked in horror at him. His red orbs narrowed while he brought his face closer to him. Voldemort forced eye contact while he touched his wound with his forefinger. Snape felt not only an acute pain travelling through his whole body, but also a mental intrusion. He tried to protect his own mind, but the physical waves of pains were obscuring his task. After a few seconds, he felt that his own defences were breached and another presence came in his mind.

He gasped at the swift speed of his invasion, like his mental walls were non-existent. He tried to force the other out, but he was easily deflected. Too easily deflected. The other glided further into his mind now there were no obstacles to stop him.

Snape knew that the intruder was searching for specific memories, since he was ignoring some recollections that came in his path. The invader stopped suddenly and grasped a memory: the event before he fainted. Voldemort watched it and took another strand; his latest tea visit. He memorized this occurrence and left it behind. The attacker delved deeper and prowled in his mind.

Voldemort must had founded what he wanted, because he came to the surface and left his mind a few moments later.

Snape panted heavily from the pain and the unpleasant feeling of his opened mind and looked a little shocked, but mostly furious at the eyes above him. His hurt, surprised and enraged feelings made him forget his physical and mental pains.

"How _dare-_" His pains returned aggravated as Snape felt more pressure on his injury and the feelings evaporated just as quickly as they had appeared. He groaned heavily and narrowed his gaze. Snape wanted to inhale deeply, but a hand squeezed his throat shut. He quickly widened his eyes and attempted to grab the hand on his neck, but a second hand pinched his arm to the ground.

"Such an... _improper _man you are..." The hand applied more physical force and tears began to form in his eyes.

"With... _him?_" Snape closed his eyes and a tear rolled down his cheek. He began to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen. The fingers were slowly crushing his air pipe.

A tutting sound reached his ears and he let out a high-pitched tone.

Suddenly, the hand left his throat and he could inhale again. He hacked loudly and tried to fill his lungs with as much oxygen as possible. But, somehow, the air couldn't pass his windpipe. The distressed wizard panicked and wanted to move his limbs, but his body was immobilised and weakened.

"Take deep breaths, Severus." Snape was too engaged in his flailing and struggle for breaths to hear his voice.

"Calm yourself." He felt a cool hand on his forehead and a second hand touched his chest. He opened his eyes when he noticed a cold touch on his head, but everything was blurred. Snape made a queer sound and tried to focus his eyes.

"Relax." The fingers on his forehead pushed his head roughly down, while he said that word almost forcefully. That one word reached his mind clearly. Slowly, he began to unclench his muscles and calmed his distressed mind.

His surroundings came into focus and he saw a pair of eyes concentrated on him. Snape thought that he saw anxiety and even a little excitement in the red irises, but it changed to a neutral gaze after he had blinked. He took an experimental breath: his throat was still stinging, but the air could flow to his lungs.

"Better?" He nodded lightly and opened his mouth to reply, but a finger on his lips intercepted him.

"Don't talk yet." Red orbs observed his face while a hand moved to his head to dry his cheeks.

"You have surprised me... again..." Voldemort examined his slightly wet hand and smirked. He dried his fingers on the other's robe and looked at the man beneath him.

"Such a curious... enigmatic creature..." His voice was an almost muted whisper now, but Snape could hear every word. His red eyes had gained a dangerous, desired edge again.

"Severus..." He traced his dried mouth.

"What to do with you?" The red orbs tried to find an answer in his onyx ones, but they were empty and devoid.

Snape avoided his gaze uncomfortably and tensed his body to raise himself from the ground, but he immediately felt a heavy weight on top of him.

"Not yet." The other brought his body close to his and a pale hand travelled to his jaw.

"Do _not _forget what I have told you..." His pale face moved closer to the slightly scared one.

"We... would not want you to get... _hurt_, do we?" Voldemort smirked when he saw the alarmed eyes. His bloodless lips almost touched the dried ones, but he stopped his advance and kissed the left corner of his lips.

"Do not forget that..." The whisper was silent and the bent man slowly stood up.

Snape let out a deep, trembling breath and closed his eyes.

_His soft, almost seductively voice was very close and he tried to block the sounds, but every word, every corrupted and toxic word, reached his ears. _

He opened them again after a few more strong puffs and saw that the other was, once again, concentrating on his face with a yearning and thrilling look. Snape focused his eyes but saw that the glints had disappeared again.

"Go back to Hogwarts." The lying man stood slowly and shakily up while they stared at each other. Snape moved his gaze to the door and staggered away in a slow pace.

"Severus." He turned around with a slight shake and saw that Voldemort was looking at his left shoulder with a narrowed, irritated and almost provoked look.

"Make sure to heal that wound." Snape swallowed loudly, nodded and quickly turned his body to the door.

He felt the unnerving gaze of the other behind his back and tried very hard not to cringe or react.

_

* * *

_

This is my second attempt to write Voldemort and Severus as a pairing. So, I'm very curious to know what you think of this chapter. Is it not graphic enough? Is there more action needed? Is the implied slash clear enough?

_I have a little difficulty writing slash, so if you have a suggestion... _

_As always, review or comment! The reviews so far are really encouraging and helping me, so keep doing it! _


	6. Chapter 6

_**Warning: this chapter contains slash.**_

* * *

He watched him from his eye corner while his throat tried to push the food past the lump. The other colleagues didn't notice anything strange about him, which unnerves him: he hadn't eaten anything on his plate and the goblet was ignored.

He turned his gaze to his own plate for a few seconds, before he moved his head to its previous position. Normally, the other would respond when he gazed at his direction. But not this time; he was staring at an unknown point and seemed very lost in his own thoughts.

His friend looked very upset and even a little frightened.

At that moment, he wanted to talk to him, to ask him what was bothering him and to elevate his problems. But he couldn't speak to him, since there were too many eyewitnesses. And he couldn't communicate with him mentally, because he had a hunch that his action would only draw him back to his shell.

He tried to think of a possible reason for his very worrisome behaviour. He hadn't notified him of his latest Death Eater meeting. That, in itself was strange and he hadn't visited him afterwards. That could only mean that something had happened to him.

Something terrible.

He was determined to uncover it, and this time, he would not rest until he had his answers.

* * *

The letters were blurring. Again.

He sighed and closed the third book he attempted to read. Nothing seemed to stop his thoughts any more. This whole week he was having trouble controlling himself, but today it had reached a new point. If he let his mind wander, it would grasp the Dark Lord's meetings, or even worse, it would dwell on _those_ shameful and perverted thoughts.

They had started last week – or was it earlier? He had dreamed that night. It had started casually, like most of his dreams about him. But this time, it ended in a perverted scenario. The next days, his fantasies had entered his mind more frequently, even when he wasn't sleeping. Every time, the scene would differ, but it always ended in a sinful conclusion.

The first occasions, he felt very disgusted, but that feeling lessened each time he witnessed another dream. He refused to believe that he enjoyed them, but he couldn't say for certain that he would feel very nauseous after seeing himself with him. The meetings were already haunting him and now he also needed to shield himself from his fantasies.

He stared unfocused at the ground.

_A cold hand reached for his mask and threw it carelessly away. A second hand encircled his waist. He moved his face close to his ear and whispered another soft, lethal poison. _

He quickly turned his head to his left, but no form was standing beside him, no person was muttering harmful, but strangely appropriate things to him and no limbs were trapping him.

Shutting his eyes, he tried to block the memory away, but another one appeared in its place.

"_Still struggling_, _Severus?" His pale fingers touched his neck and he planted a soft kiss on his jaw. He tried to move his head away from his corrupt touches, but a hand held it in place._

Forcing his eyes to open themselves, he attempted to shut the memory away. It left him, but with great difficulty. He stood up and wandered around his quarters to occupy his body.

He was making his fourth round when he saw a envelope appearing in front of his face. The object circled him and refused to leave, so he grabbed the paper and sighed heavily when he saw the familiar, neat and cursive handwriting.

The envelope opened itself and a small letter flew out the narrow gap. Its message was short and vague. He narrowed his eyes while he stared at the green letters. It wasn't an emergency or anything of great importance, otherwise he wouldn't have send a letter to him, but would contact him in a more direct way. A letter usually meant that Dumbledore wanted him to pay a visit.

He wanted to ignore or decline this offer, but he had the feeling that this was one of the few occasions that the Headmaster wouldn't accept a negative response.

_Yet again, he have managed to choose a _perfect_ timing..._

* * *

The wooden door was opened by a smiling Dumbledore.

"Ah, Severus! Come in, come in." He nodded slightly and walked in the Headmaster's office. The door was closed and Dumbledore strolled to his personal quarters, but turned around when he saw that his visitor wasn't following him.

"Severus?" The Potions Master looked a little uncomfortable.

"You... wanted to speak with me?"

"Yes." Snape turned his questioning gaze to him.

"We can talk in the living room."

"Why not here?" He tried to ask his question neutrally, but his voice betrayed his anxiety. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, but didn't comment.

"It's not so comfortable here." Snape noticed the slightly forceful tone and knew that he should not had questioned him. He nodded a little and saw that the Headmaster was smiling again.

He entered the living room, but halted when different aromas invaded his nose. He gazed around and saw a table in the middle of the room. Snape widened his eyes at the food and drinks on the transfigured dinner table. He glanced at Dumbledore.

"What-" He stopped talking when the Headmaster seemed to ignore him while he was walking to the dining table. He turned around and motioned at the table with a smile.

"Our dinner." Snape didn't respond, but continued to gaze at the other with a perplexed look. Dumbledore widened his smile when he saw his response.

"Come here and take a seat."

"I... I don't think-"

"Are you coming here or do I have to bring you here?" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He didn't like where this was going, but he couldn't find the strength and boldness to argue with Dumbledore. Snape opened them again and walked slowly to the closest chair. He wanted to sit down, but the Headmaster had managed to walk behind the furniture and gently nudged it toward his body. He was very surprised by his action and turned his face to him.

"Thank you." It was an almost imperceptible whisper, but Dumbledore heard the two words. He moved his own head closer to his and smiled.

"You are very welcome, my boy."

Their heads were close and enabled them to scrutiny each other's face. The Headmaster began to notice some things: the dark circles under his eyes, the very pale colour on his skin and the chapped lips. Each new detail intensified his anxiety and he looked at the onyx eyes. They were empty, vacant and missed a gleam he would normally see when they were in private. Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and almost gasped when a memory hit him.

_He was lying, face down, on the ground but a hand moved his body so his back was leaning on the cold earth. A form crouched down beside him._

"_What next, Severus? Your hand?" A wand touched his left hand. "Your shoulder?" It travelled upwards. "Your cheek, perhaps?" The object made some small circles on his left cheek. He turned his face away to avoid the wand and he heard a chuckle._

"Albus?" His blue eyes stared down at confused onyx orbs.

"Are you... all right?" The Headmaster immediately knew what had happened. It unnerved him, since the younger man would _never _show a memory of his meetings without his gentle and patient probing. But he was more shocked by his innocent reaction. The other didn't seem to notice that he had, unbeknownst, presented a sensitive memory to him. Dumbledore blinked a few times and noted that the seated man was looking at him with a concerned and slightly astonished expression.

"Albus." His voice sounded stronger and clearer. The aged wizard perceived that he hadn't answered his question, and was most likely gazing at him with a strange look.

"Of course." He walked away and sat on the empty chair opposite the other furniture. He smiled slightly and gazed at the numerous food scattered on the table.

"Is there anything here that you want to taste?" But Snape's attention was on something else.

_He embraced his body and put his head on his chest. He inhaled deeply. The soft, familiar scent gently prickled his nose. He sighed and nuzzled a little closer when a hand touched his shoulder._

When Dumbledore didn't hear an answer, he glanced up and saw that the other was looking peculiar at him.

Snape quickly stared at the different choices littered on the dining table and grimaced. "No, not really." He glanced up at the blue eyes and saw that they were focused on him. The Headmaster stooped forward and took his plate.

"Shall we start with this one, then?" He didn't wait for his reply, but brought some of an appetizer to his plate and gave it back to him with a small smile.

Snape stared at his plate. The aromas were assaulting his nose. He held his breath, glanced up and saw that the other plate had the same aperitif.

"Shall we open a bottle of wine?"

"I don't think-" He shut his mouth when he saw the Headmaster opening a fine and possibly a very expensive bottle of red wine. He extended a half-full glass to the other and Snape raised his arm to intercept it. Their fingertips touched and he almost dropped the wineglass. Dumbledore remained oblivious and filled his own glass, raised it slightly, took a small sip and set it back on the table.

"Enjoy your meal, Severus." He nodded and saw that Dumbledore was beginning to eat. Snape wanted to follow his example, but he couldn't move his eyes away from him.

"_Are you comfortable?" He made a small noise and closed his eyes, but he heard a chuckle above him. "Is that a yes or a no?" _

_He groaned, moved his head to the shoulder and half-opened his eyes to plant a soft and light kiss on the side of the neck. A soft laugh reached his ears. "Your answer is still unclear to me..." _

_His pale hand travelled to the chest. The other hand gently nudged the backside away from the couch and used the free gap to move to the other side of the neck. He half-embraced the back of the warm body and let his head fall on the crook of the neck. _

_As a response, an arm wrapped itself around his shoulder and a warm hand touched the cold fingers on his chest. He moaned softly and closed his eyes. _

* * *

He put his knife and fork down and set his nearly uneaten plate aside. He glanced at the Headmaster and saw that he was savouring his dessert.

"Finished already?" Snape gazed at his full and almost untouched plate and then stared at the other's eyes.

"Yes, I had no appetite." It was better to answer that subtle question truthfully, because Dumbledore would otherwise corner him until he would admit that.

It wasn't the whole truth, but he wasn't lying either. He only omitted his reason. A very large lump had been formed in his throat. If the food had managed to squeeze past that, it would had to face his stone, cold insides. He was afraid that everything would come out again, when it reached his stomach. The aromas, one more penetrating than the other, were certainly making him nauseous.

Snape couldn't concentrate on his plate, even if he wanted to, because his mind would go to forbidden places while his attention was on the man sitting opposite him. He could manage to obscure those thoughts when Dumbledore wasn't near him, but it became an impossible task when he was sitting a meter away from him and innocently enjoying his dinner.

At that moment, another daydream entered his mind, but this one was not a chaste dream.

_His eyes travelled to the other's body, examining and following every subtle and graceful movement. The gentle eyes were focused on an old, thick book, and didn't notice him. Too impatient to wait until the other person would notice what he wanted, he stood up and walked silently behind his chair. His face was brought to the other's neck and he inhaled deeply while he touched his shoulder. The body cringed a little. _

"_Sorry." A chuckle reached his ears._

"_Don't laugh..." A hand touched his right hand for a moment as a apology and the chair was turned. The other patted his thigh with a smiling face. He slowly sat down on the warm, fleshy cushion and a hand immediately encircled his waist. Another hand wanted to touch his face, but he intercepted it halfway, stared at it and kissed all five, long and elegant fingers. He wanted to examine his hand a little longer, but he felt gentle kisses on his exposed neck. _

_He groaned and moved his body slightly away from the soft, warm robe. His ears heard a half-loud laugh. "Stop that..." _

_A warm breath grazed his ear. "You want me to stop?" The whispered voice sounded a little surprised, but he also heard a fabricated, hurt quality. He moved his body and looked in his eyes. "No, I want you to wait," the object on his nose was carefully removed and set, gently, on the table, "until I have done," his left hand travelled to the other's shoulder, "what I want." _

_He planted a few feather kisses on the soft mouth. The other turned his face away, released the slightly cold body and leaned back on the soft chair. "Wait. I need to read this chapter." _

_He frowned. "A book is more important," his voice turned to a soft, but clear whisper, "than me?" He made sure that the other could hear the hurt and offended quality._

"_Of course not... but-" _

"_Then it can wait for an hour." The other raised his eyebrows. "An hour?" _

_He narrowed his eyes while his hand travelled to the stomach. _

"_Yes." His voice and eyes had an unknown quality, and the other immediately knew what he wanted. _

"_Well... I don't think-" He frowned at the hesitating voice and quickly moved his own mouth to the soft one. He shifted his body closer to the warmer one and silently moaned when the other slowly opened his mouth, but broke their kiss abruptly. _

"_You are quickly persuaded today..." He saw _that_ glint in the other's eyes and instantly understood the reason. _

"_An hour will not be enough..." He knew that his eyes were shimmering the same way as the other ones._

_They would _certainly_ need more time. _

* * *

"Severus?" The Headmaster touched his shoulder, but the seated and frozen man didn't respond. He shook his body gently and repeated his name.

Silence.

He took hold of his other shoulder and applied more force.

Snape heard a distant voice and felt a slight pressure. The images vanished one by one, and his surroundings slowly came into focus.

"Severus!" He started and would had fallen from his chair, but two hands held him in place. A form came in his vision and he flinched when he looked at the concerned face.

His feelings and thoughts were still fresh in his mind, and he wasn't sure whether his dream was continuing when he saw the familiar face close to his own.

At that moment, his contradicting thoughts and feelings clashed with each other again while his vision and mind struggled to separate reality and dream. He was getting a little nauseous. It was disgusted enough that he dreamed about his soft touches, but he wanted Dumbledore to stroke his slightly cold body, to caress his pale face, to brush his ears. But that was not the only reason. Snape wanted to touch, stroke and embrace him. He wanted to feel his warm body, to inhale his scent and breaths and, yes, he even wanted to taste him.

_Disgusting._

Suddenly, he heard another voice. _He_ was beside him and speaking in his ear.

"_You enjoy it, do you not, when he... touches you..." _

"_How is he caressing you? How are you touching him?"_

"_Such an... _improper_ man you are..."_

"_You and I, we are the same..."_

"_We... would not want you to get... hurt, do we?"_

"_Do not forget what I have told you..."_

* * *

Cold water was splashed against his face and he shockingly opened his eyes. The concerned face of the Headmaster came into focus and he quickly gasped, but inadvertently inhaled some water. He coughed and tried to inhale, but his lungs weren't cooperating.

"Calm down, Severus." A familiar memory came to surface, and that was certainly not calming him. No, he was panicking. The water wasn't leaving his body so he tried to shift his body, but every part of him had suddenly become solid rocks.

"Listen to my breathing." Dumbledore brought his aged face close to the slightly turned head and exhaled. Snape winced and attempted to shy away, but the other shuffled closer and placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his movements.

"Listen." Dumbledore breathed again, this time closer and more audible so the other could hear it.

Snape was waiting for the unnerving touches of the cold hands and strong body, but the sensations didn't come. Instead, he felt a warm hand on his body and heard a gentle, but clear voice. It was different this time: the situation was nearly the same, but the other person was so gentle, careful and... concerned...

Snape heard breathing sounds close to his ear and wanted to harmonize their breathings, but his body refused to listen. He wanted to sit up, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped his advance.

"Follow my example, Severus." The warm puffs tickled his head, but his throat didn't open enough.

"Can't..." It came out as a hoarse and raspy sound and he held his breath to stop the oncoming pain.

"Of course you can..." He shook his head while his body began to tremble.

"Breathe, Severus, please." A hand touched his neck and softly messaged it to unclench its muscles, but it had an opposite effect: the memory of _that_ meeting came back.

Dumbledore didn't know what to do any more: every action intensified the other's distress and his words and persuasions only heightened the other's panic. He absolutely didn't want to start his next action, since it could worsen his mental instability, but if this continued, his friend would sustain a permanent injury.

Dumbledore gripped his wand with a slightly trembling hand and pointed it to the other's head.

_

* * *

_

I know that I've ended this chapter with a little cliffhanger, but this chapter would be too long if I included the other part.

_The good news is that I've already written the second part, so I'll _probably_ update again soon!_

_Until then, review or comment! I really want to know what you think of this chapter. Especially the dream-parts, since they were... difficult... for me to write..._


	7. Chapter 7

Amidst the distressed and terrified thoughts, he felt a foreign sensation flooding his mind. It numbed and soothed his feelings and caused his body to relax its muscles. This new feeling was gentle, but impenetrable; his weakened mental walls couldn't banish the very strange sensation.

His throat was gradually opened and the water in his lungs slowly left his body.

He wanted to stay in this mental state: it was very calm and his thoughts and dreams couldn't reach him here. He didn't have to worry about his complicated life, the many trials and advances of the Dark Lord, his struggling, confusing and contradicting thoughts...

He could forget the hateful and bitter, but necessary behaviour toward his most valued and closest friend, and perhaps he could even obliterate his weaker, disgusted and revolted self. That would certainly cause much less trouble and pain, for both him and those around him...

A sharp nudge forced him away from the semi-dream state and suddenly, all his previous feelings and thoughts crashed down on him while the unfamiliar sensation disappeared into thin air.

The astonished wizard forced his eyes open and breathed as deep as possible, despite his prickling and recovering throat and instantly sat up, but his head collided against a soft form. Too bewildered and clouded to even contemplate what the consequences could be, he grasped the warm body, pulled it toward his own and rested his head on it. He could feel the abrupt stiffening of the other's body, but after a moment, a hand gently embraced him and brought him closer to the strangely comfortable and relaxed form.

His pale fingers clutched the soft material while he felt a very strong and overwhelming emotion. He thought that he heard a silent, distant voice speaking to him, but nothing reached his brain. He could faintly sense that he was engulfed in warmness and softness, but he was too preoccupied to react. He knew that the texture of the robe and the scent should be familiar, but his brains weren't working properly.

The disquiet, uneasy thoughts and memories were attacking him. A strong, unknown sensation attempted to escape.

He tensed his body, clutched two handfuls of the smooth material and shifted his head a little higher. He could barely notice that the other person was holding him more firmly and whispering something to him: the concentration was needed to stop that feeling, but he couldn't halt it. His eyes began to water and his chest became too constricted.

He closed his eyes with a deep groan and leaned heavily on the other.

* * *

What are you doing?

_...What am I... doing?_

What are you doing, Severus?

_I... I am..._

Crying.

_I – what?_

Sobbing.

_No... I'm not-_

Weeping.

_No... I am... oh no..._

Yes.

_But how- _

Crying in front of him.

_Him? No... you mean..._

Yes.

_No..._

Yes.

_How?_

You.

_Me?_

Yes. You.

_But... what have I done?_

You didn't do anything.

_What?_

That has always been your problem.

_My... problem?_

You complicate your own troubles.

_What are you-_

Your presence.

_I don't-_

And your thoughts.

_I don't know what-_

You can't even stop your own thoughts.

_I've stopped them once._

But they came back the next moment.

_I stopped them..._

They came back.

_I had a moment of peace!_

But with consequences.

_I would do it again if needed._

Really?

_Yes._

Your first try was... awkward and uncontrolled.

_I know how to do it now..._

No magic then?

_No... the method was just fine..._

It hurt and had caused you more harm.

_That is... why I did it in the first place..._

But using _that _method?

_It's very... effective._

You've sunk really low...

_I don't care..._

Of course..

_Yes._

I do wonder why are you even trying.

_Trying what?_

Your temporary solution will never work.

_That's not true._

They have come back.

_I..._

All of them.

_No, not all of them._

They materialised in your dreams.

_But they-_

And in your daydreams.

_It... It only happened... a few times._

He has appeared in both.

_It was only... once..._

You are a deceiver.

_You're wrong!_

He has appeared... many times.

_He... he didn't..._

But I understand it.

_What?_

I can explain it to you.

_There is nothing to explain._

Of course...

_Yes!_

You want something from him.

_That's not-_

Liar.

_No! We... we're both content._

Really?

_Yes!_

But you want more.

_I.. No! I'm content!_

You are like _him._

_No. _

Don't you see the resemblance?

_I..._

You see it, don't you?

_But... I don't want... not in _that _way..._

What about your dreams?

_Those are not real._

But you want them to be real.

_No._

You want him to touch you.

_No..._

To caress you.

_That's not-_

To taste you.

_I..._

You want to touch him.

_I will... never-_

To caress him.

_Stop..._

To taste him.

_No..._

To feel him...

_Just... stop..._

_Completely._

…

You are disgusting.

_...I..._

I was wrong before; you are worse than _him._

_I can't be worse than-_

Is your current relationship not enough?

_Of course it's... enough..._

Are you not satisfied enough?

_I... am satisfied..._

And yet, you want to go further.

_Well... not necessarily..._

Just like _he _and I had predicted.

_I'm not... I haven't done-_

But you _want _to.

_I already told-_

Who are you trying to fool?

_I am not__ fooling... myself..._

Of course not...

…

Pathetic.

_I... I..._

You _want _it.

_...I know..._

You really are detestable.

_I..._

Perverted.

_Yes..._

Revolting.

_Yes..._

This will end in a catastrophe.

_I... know..._

A disaster.

_I know..._

A chaotic end.

_I know that already._

Good.

_But..._

What?

_When required... I need... _

Of course,

_When... I will..._

Yes.

_But... do you know-_

I know what you mean.

_...Oh._

And my answer remains a yes.

_Are you... sure?_

Absolutely.

_Truly?_

Truly.

_

* * *

_

Hmm... another cliffhanger...

_I wanted to include the next part, but, once again, this chapter would be a little too long then. Besides, this is a good place to end the chapter!_

_A certain other writer has given me the advice to include some _cliffhangers _now and then. I know how cruel cliffhangers can be, but when I'm writing it, they can be... effective. _

_But, the next chapter is already written, and this time, I _will _update this story sooner!_


	8. Chapter 8

The semi-conscious man felt a hand tenderly stroking his cheek and he slightly shook his head to remove the subtly changing pressure. The fingers left his head, but placed themselves just below the jawline. Their slight push annoyed him and he attempted to turn his body away from them, but his limbs refused his command. The small weight on his neck was lifted a moment later and he moaned lightly to express his gratitude.

"Severus?"

It was a gentle and almost inaudible whisper, but Snape recognised the voice. He opened his eyes with some difficulty while he tried to move his body for the second time. His head touched something soft and he felt a silky and woollen texture against his face. He moved his gaze and saw white hair.

No... it was a beard.

Suddenly realising who the mysterious, but comfortable and warm presence was, Snape closed his eyes with a groan. He knew it was him when the familiar scent entered his nose. He had no idea what had happened and had absolutely no clue how he ended up curled against the Headmaster.

But here he was.

A warm hand touched his cheek again and brought him back to reality.

"Severus?" His worried voice caused the younger man to open his eyes again. He wanted to move so he could see the other, but a second hand held him in place.

"Don't move yet."

"_Don't move yet..." _

Although these three words were muttered in a very different tone, they had triggered his memories and reminded him of another meeting. His thoughts were active now, and suddenly, it was all he could see and hear and feel...

The tedious meeting, the disastrous dinner, the persistent water in his lungs, the strange sensations, the familiar voice, his perverted daydreams...

The _tears_.

It all came back and it felt like a heavy weight that was trying to crush his mind. He should be acting, he should try to minimise the damage of his uncharacteristic and revolting behaviours, but he didn't have the strength and resolve to do anything and his mind felt unfamiliar, too unfamiliar to him.

Snape tested his right hand and brought it hesitantly to his head after he sensed that it could move.

"What is it?" The younger wizard moved his head and carefully rubbed his forehead while he closed his eyes with a slight groan.

"Headache..." He felt a hand on his shoulder and his upper body was lowered to a soft, comfy and fleshy pillow. His right hand was gently guided away and a warm hand replaced them.

Snape moved his body to lie more comfortable while warm fingers soothed the pain. But a sharp sting was registered and he grunted while he shifted his pounding head.

"Relax, Severus._" _The quality of the voice was gentle and pleasant, but he flinched slightly when he heard the first word again in his mind, this time in a different tone and voice.

He shuddered when he felt the sensations and saw the images of the corresponding meeting. A second twinge hit his forehead and he brought his own hand to his head, trying to ease the endless pain.

His cold fingers touched warm skin and he began to knead gently. But something was wrong. He didn't feel the slight pressure of his fingertips on his head and the texture was different.

_Wait..._

Snape stopped his massage, opened his eyes and blinked a few times to focus his sight. His onyx eyes saw the troubled, but slightly amused face of the Headmaster. The blue orbs were keenly observing his own eyes and he froze when he watched the familiar eyes.

An foreign, yet acquainted feeling filled his brains and thoughts – chasing the previous thought away – and he was already acting before he could stop himself.

"Albus..."

The aged wizard inhaled sharply when he heard the sombre, distressed and slightly unfamiliar tone of the other's voice.

"I... I'm so sorry..." It was a soft whisper, so soft that Dumbledore had to bring his face closer to the pale face to not miss a detail.

"You... you are being too-" He closed his eyes when the third pain wave hit him.

"Don't talk-"

"No..." Snape shook his head and opened his eyes again with a grimace. A coherent part of him attempted to stop this foreign sensation, but it failed.

"Why?" Dumbledore knitted his eyebrows in confusion. He had no idea what his distressed friend was asking: that one word could refer to many things.

Snape chuckled. It was a strange sound. A sound that the Headmaster had only heard once or twice. A complex combination of emotions. He couldn't recognise and decipher some of them, but he did know that that sound meant that his friend was in a deep, mental pain.

Dumbledore looked down again while he tried to figure out how to answer his question and help his inner turmoil.

A sharp knocking sound shocked them both: Dumbledore tensed his body while the other pinched the warm hand on his forehead.

The new sound effectively put a stop to the unknown sensation and Snape looked with confused eyes at Albus.

It was like he was looking for the very first time at the ocean's colour eyes, like this was their very first meeting. They gazed at each other, and almost forgot that there was a visitor waiting in the next room. Snape's mouth parted again, and this time, his face inched closer.

A second, more audible and effective knock was heard. Snape withdrew his fingers and moved the other hand away while he shifted his head to the door.

"Severus?"

"You should answer..." Snape slowly sat up and trembled when he didn't feel the warm temperature any more. The other wanted to stroke the shaking back to warm him, but the quivering man stood up unstably.

"Severus..." He ignored him and walked behind the couch. Dumbledore stood up and turned around. He was about to open his mouth, but they detected a third knock, and this time, a voice accompanied the sound.

"Headmaster?" The two men turned their attention to the door. The Headmaster sighed and reluctantly walked to the exit while he looked at the younger man.

"Give me a moment." Dumbledore put a hand on the doorknob and opened the door, but he heard a quiet whisper from his tired friend.

"I don't-" The rest of the sentence was lost, because he heard a second, louder voice speaking to him.

"Albus, I'm sorry for disturbing you-" The Transfiguration professor stepped in the room but stopped when she saw a second occupant.

"Severus!"

Snape gazed at his colleague with a surprised expression, that quickly changed to an uncomfortable face when he recognized the other.

"Minerva..."

McGonagall looked between the aged and younger wizard and continued in a slower, hesitant voice. "Perhaps I should come back-"

"That's not... necessary..." He slowly walked to them while he tried to ignore their concerned gazes.

Dumbledore wanted to put his hand on the exhausted man's shoulder to stop his retreat, but he would depart even faster when he would do that. And he didn't want to confuse his already distressed mind and body.

"Severus..." he called, but Snape ignored him and the bewildered witch while he continued to move away. He turned around after he had opened the door and looked at his friend.

"I... I am sorry for..." He couldn't speak the last word. It sounded fine when he spoke the sentence in his mind, but he couldn't voice it.

He was doing it again. That persistent habit had never left him, and would never leave him. The younger wizard opened the door and quietly left.

_I... I am sorry for... everything..._

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It has been a long time since I've updated this one, but here it is! A brand new chapter!

_I hope you will like this chapter and don't forget to review (if you want to)!_


	9. Chapter 9

It had taken an hour to solve the problem. Dealing with it was tedious and would always take more time than necessary; the poltergeist had created chaos again and had refused to stop his mischief and immature pranks. The bucket of water that fell on the Deputy Headmistress and the ungraceful glide that followed had pushed her beyond her fluctuating patience and control and she demanded of him to 'obliterate that barbaric, sadistic, inhuman rascal'.

It was certainly a tiring task, more so given the preceding events, but it created an opportunity to calm and organize his mind. And now, while he was sitting on his green couch again, he was given time to reflect.

So much had happened in these chaotic and turbulent hours, and he was left with more unanswered questions than answered ones.

His friend acted odd, from the moment he stepped in the office. He had attempted to mask his doubts and feelings, but Dumbledore could easily puncture those shields, and to do so without the use of Legilimency.

Dumbledore knew that he was very evasive and trying to hide in his mental, safe shelter, so he was obliged to be forceful, not too persuasive or aggressive, but just enough to beckon the younger man to his waiting, outstretched hand.

His friend took a step forward, so he was within an arm's length.

He could sense, and see more warning signs, and then...

It was an accident, but his mind was so fragile, defenceless and bare...

What he saw was horrible, and he felt every emotion; fear, confusion, distress, helplessness. He experienced them all – how could he not, when all were swarming around him, all separately aiming to grab his attention – and he instantly felt the rooted hatred and loathing increasing toward Tom.

His fear was confirmed when the younger man did not notice his presence in that memory. At that very moment, he wanted to confront him and force him to talk, not desisting until answers were heard. But he could not do that: the other would rapidly slip away from his grip if he followed his instincts. No, the correct course of action was to wait and observe.

The young wizard remained beside him physically, but mentally, he was residing at a place beyond his reach. The aged wizard strived to ignore and overlook him, but when he stared, frozen and rooted, at his nearly untouched plate for many minutes, he could not wait any longer and decided to approach him.

It was a frightening scene that welcomed him: he did not respond to touch and sound. The aged man could safely deduce that he was a very calm and controlled person, but he almost panicked when his actions did not have the desired effect. Worse still, his presence only heightened his friend's very disquiet and shocked state.

He had to use his spell. It was dangerous, and could cause more harm than healing to someone who did not have a peaceful and tranquil mental state, but he couldn't think of another action: his mind had snatched onto one thought, and refused to heed the surrounding strings.

The effect was immediate: his body and mind relaxed instantly. But that was only the first stage. The numbed, weakened and obscured feelings and thoughts would come back. And they would be more harmful and destructive. They would certainly not assist the already distressed mind.

It was no surprise that his friend became too overwhelmed. What he couldn't predict, was his search for comfort. He sincerely accepted his silent request after a small moment of doubt and did all he could to comfort the other, even if it wasn't his stronger, dominating part's offer, but the unseen, fragile, insecure and weak piece's proposal: embracing his body, murmuring soft words, trying to warm his body and silently informing him that he was not alone. He soon fell asleep.

An intense fatigue was a side effect, too. The tormented man needed his rest, but the exhaustion could effect some motorized processes in his body. He constantly examined his body and mind for any warning sign and waited for him to regain consciousness so he could further inspect his state.

A small, stealthy voice advised him to use Legilimency. He was sorely tempted to follow that suggestion. It was an easy solution, and it would spare him time. Time that was not easy to obtain, particularly with this man. But a more sensible, cautious and mindful part steered him away from the path that would surely lead to a horrible cataclysm.

The carefully constructed bond that they had created over the years would break, and the furious man would leave him for eternity. He would seek a new solace. He would seek a different person – a person other than himself... – for his problems, his joys, his stories, the company...

He would run to _him_.

He could not risk that. He _would_ not risk that.

His friend awoke at a pace that was too agile. He was very tired, confused and disorganized, but appeared to be relatively undamaged. A headache was a common, but not harmful consequence; it was a sign that the mind was trying to arrange and guard itself.

And then it happened: his dear friend showed himself to him without his protections, restraints and suppression. It was a beautiful and fascinating sight. Dumbledore had experienced it on several occasions, but they were very rare, so he cherished every second, and struggled to carve every detail into his eyes.

They were coming closer to the essence of his problems, but they were suddenly interrupted before he could investigate and delve deeper into the main problem.

The unseen connection was broken, and he saw the invisible chains and walls wrapping themselves around their mark and snatching him away. And all he could do was watch him with helpless eyes until the view was completely obscured.

Dumbledore sighed sadly and closed his exhausted eyes. He had forfeited his opportunity, his chance to help him, to comfort him, to ease him, to relieve him...

To _truly_ be with him.

It was inevitable that he would run away and conceal himself in his comfort zone. A hidden location where he could forget the outside world, an invisible area where his antagonistic parts could greedily feed themselves, a cold and desolate place where no one could reach him...

_Where_ I_ cannot reach him..._

And it hurt him. It hurt him terribly.

His dear friend was still suspicious, sceptical and wary around him. He was still uncomfortable and troubled. He had not the confidence and assurance to trust him with complications and troubles. Even not the insignificant ones. Even after all their comfortable and pleasant time together. Even after he had used every method he knew to show the young man that he, Severus, meant everything for him. Even after their relationship had progressed so well...

A deep, agonizing pain clawed at the insides of his chest while a small, round tear left his right eye.

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The next chapter is almost finished and this will be updated soon, hopefully!

_Once again, my beta receives my thanks: she has pointed out a rather embarrassing mistake (even if that 'mistake' is, technically, true in this story), that would raise some eyes if left unchanged... _


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